I love you unconditionally, but with some conditions.
I love you, but I want what is best for you, and you being happy isn’t that. As an outsider, I know what is best.
I love you, but you are wrong. You need the truth, my version of the truth. Clearly you cannot discern truth yourself, but I have the omniscience to know.
I love you, but you are a sinner. I have not talked to you in months, but I want you to know this. By the way, God loves you too.
I love you, but I don’t know if you’re really a Christian now that you grew and changed and we no longer agree on everything.
I love you, which is why I am telling you — after a decade of no real communication — how far you have fallen from the godly young lady you were before I decided you weren’t.
I love you, but I do not have the courage to talk to you anymore since you do not fit into my box of acceptability. It does not matter that we once considered ourselves sisters.
I love you, but let me remind you why I think you are wrong for loving who you love, or possibly wrong for existing.
I love our clients, but our organization has a policy against people like you.
I love you, but I am going to make sure you cannot move up in leadership.
I love you, but I will not acknowledge what you are talking to me about.
I love you, but I am not proud of you like I was before.
I love you, but I cannot handle who you have grown to be. I love the old you, the child you remain in my mind.
I love you, but I will not support you anymore since I need to take a moral stand. I need to make it clear that my beliefs trump our relationship.
I love you, which is why I asked about your mental health, but I am going to take away the spiritual and community support you just told me was helping just minutes ago, all because you want to welcome people I disagree with.
I love you, but if you disagree with me, you are disagreeing with God — yes, the Holy Spirit — and I will essentially kick you out.
I love you, but you make me too uncomfortable, so I will not speak to you.
I love you unconditionally, but with some conditions.
I love you, but…
katelyn skye bennett 
I love this so much. It speaks to the obvious contrast in the church between what they say they believe and how they behave. It speaks to the deep disturbing trend to create a list of boxes and mark them as good or bad then defend this system by slapping a stamp of divine justice on it. It speaks to how somebody can see me as who they make me to be in their mind rather than who I am inside. This pulls on my heart strings and reminds me of a multiverse of possible presents had the circumstances of my birth simple been delt to me differently. If my parents hadn’t given me authority to dress the way I wanted to dress and to enter spaces in the way I wanted to enter them, who would I be now? The church was a place where I could ask questions, yes, but I knew the answer before I asked based on a cult of culture and to be surprised meant finding acceptance when I revealed pieces of my true self. It was the only place where I knew letting my mask slip too far would result in my removal and dismissal. Thanks for sharing and for creating a new culture in church spaces. Thanks for accepting and for loving other people for who they are and not who you expect them to be.
hey Skye, just found your site when it popped up on my LinkedIn- this is really cool. I’ve also experienced a version of that “I love you, but-“. The “I know this is hurting you but really this is me showing you love.” It’s rough out there. Just wanted you to know it makes me smile realizing we were queer folks at Wheaton together, even though I didn’t realize it at the time. Hope you’re doing well!
❤